Not the Traditional Men & Black
by D.R. Fullwood
Summary: Castiel and Crowley are in a pub in Minnesota while discovering that the Devil is now a rock star {SPOILERS IF NOT CAUGHT UP WITH SUPERNATURAL} Drabble.


A/N~

I just was in a writing moment and came up with this. I'm pretty proud of it considering that this is the very first time I've ever written outside of Dean Winchester and more so for Crowley and Castiel. I hope y'all like it! It's kinda before "Rock Never Dies" since they're at a pub and obviously Lucifer is on television as Vince. I truly don't know, this is honestly just what I ended up making for a drabble.

~DR Fullwood

* * *

Being human most definitely wasn't something to miss. Sure, there was a moment where the demon was going through the general swings of humanity, but he had nothing more than for the Moose Winchester to thank for that. Thankfully, the very same moron was the one to reestablish and remind this unholy ruler just what he was capable of. To put it simple: he was Crowley. He was once the King of the Crossroads now upgraded to the King of Hell. It was a fine title to claim and he worked Hell like any business contract he ever created. Hell ran smoother, or rather it did until the insolent Winchesters once more ruined Crowley's work. Now here he was, sitting with a cocktail at a pub in the middle of Minnesota. Dressed in black, his dark eyes lowered from the ongoing TV from above head to his chosen beverage. Never a time to not sit down and indulge in a little bit of brandy and who could deny such a taste mixed with the cut orange and cherry to give it more of a delectable taste?

Off to his right, the demon heard a heavy sigh that a child would normally sound off to signal boredom. Crowley brought the small glass to his lips and he took a drink, ignoring the angel beside him. Unlike Crowley, Castiel was far from relaxed. The Prince of Darkness was out impersonating an 80's rock star and here he was sitting in a pub…with Crowley. Castiel's blue eyes annoyingly went from the screen to the demon beside. "Is this really the time to have a drink?" The angel said in his husky tone, not leaving out the annoyance laced in every word.

Crowley smiled charmingly over to Castiel, "Come now, Cassie," his accent coming out thick and velvety, "we have found the Devil so now we have ourselves a drink for a job well done!" He lifted the glass up to further punctuate his point and took another drink.

"We have yet to capture Lucifer. Yes, we have found his vessel, his temporary vessel, but shouldn't we be getting closer in distance with him instead of being…here?"

Castiel looked around the scene. Many hovered over the pool tables having their fun in betting and casual talks. The entire place reeked of tobacco and to some level of degree vomit. Maybe the vomit wasn't as prominent as it was for Castiel since these were mere humans, but it did very little in the very same to keep his nose from not wrinkling in distaste. In truth, Castiel wanted to leave. They had found Lucifer's current vessel, so all he had to do was call Sam and Dean for further help. Minnesota was quite a ways from Los Angeles and there wasn't any affordable time to sit down and have a cocktail.

The weeks being with Crowley have been seemingly unpleasant for the fallen angel. He couldn't count on his hands anymore the number of times the demon has rambled on and on, mostly about nothing important, has made him want to stab his ears with an angel blade and that was putting it mild. Well, mild for Castiel's perspective anyways. The angel looked off to his side when he heard the slurping of the alcohol going down Crowley's throat, causing the ice cubes to clatter a bit together against the glass. Castiel set his jaw and looked around as his shoulders further tensed. His fingers fiddled together clumsily through his irritation.

"I cannot waste another moment in this place. You can stay and drink, but I need to get to Los Angeles before Lucifer moves on to another vessel." The angel finally voiced and stood up, already fishing his phone out of his black pants to phone Dean. Crowley rolled his eyes and placed the glass down on the napkin and held a finger up to alert the bartender for the tab. Right after, he got up, adjusting his trench and faced the backside of the retreating angel. "Always such a cheap date. I would figure with how often you're up the Winchesters' asses that you'd learn how to lighten up."

He left with the angel in a brisk and took the phone from his ear to end the call. Castiel glared, "I was calling—"  
"Yes, I know. Your little boyfriend. Touching how you're always checking in with him," Crowley said sarcastically, which only further angered Castiel. Crowley didn't seem to mind. He'll admit it, he enjoyed getting under the angel's skin. He had to find fun somewhere nowadays.

"Come now, Cassie, don't get your feathers ruffled."

"I don't," Castiel started off harsh, but stopped mid-way once he came to realization of what he was about to respond with. He lowered his voice and shrugged mildly, "I don't have wings anymore."

If Crowley didn't know better, he'd say that Castiel was a pouty little child just now, but he wasn't about to say that. "Then let's find ourselves a better ride, shall we?" He proposed instead and watched the angel squint a bit and then looked to the pickup truck that's seen better days. "What's wrong with this?" Crowley made a little face at it. Good God, he was the King of Hell! He needed to ride in style, especially to LA!

Grasping the angel's shoulder, he spoke, "Simple; we are going to Los Angeles. We need to ride in style."


End file.
